The media-friendly story exploded on the national scene. According to Chris Cameron, BC's associate athletic director in charge of media relations, calls came in from CNN, ESPN, Sports Illustrated, and even Ellen DeGeneres.

"It's rare for a popular story to get this sort of attention," said Cameron.

The attention caught Aponavicius unprepared. He amused reporters (who were ever referring to him as likeable, fresh faced, and grinning) with his exuberant behavior on the field and with the media, coming overdressed for his first postgame news conference in a coat and tie.

"I was all so strange to me," said Aponavicius. "I didn't know how to deal with it, going from nothing like that before. I made the local paper before in high school for hitting a single in baseball or having an assist in soccer, but nothing like this. It was strange, but obviously an awesome thing to happen … It was just funny, all the things that happened and just how quickly things change."

What hasn't changed is Aponavicius. On and off the field, he has maintained the smile and personality that won him so many admirers.

Kevin Murphy, A&S '09, who first met a maroon-and-gold-painted Aponavicius last year on their way to the Army game, now shares a room in Walsh with him. While he said that Aponavicius uses his story "all the time" to impress girls, he said Aponavicius never let success go to his head.

"He didn't get carried away with it. He was never like 'Oh, look at me, I'm a superstar now.' He stayed very down-to-earth."

"Not much has changed," said backup kicker Sam Lovett, A&S '10. "Same guy, same workouts, same routine. The guys respect him a lot and feel confident playing with him."


The Person
From Easton, Pa., Aponavicius is the grandchild of Lithuanian immigrants (from whom he takes his distinctive last name) who fled Soviet occupation to America. He credits them with inspiring him through hard times and expanding his culinary taste.